En Route
by VintageFelicity
Summary: As a child, Bella was known for her boisterous laugh and kind heart, but life molded her into a over-used business woman. When her mother passes, her father sinks into a reliant state and her life comes to a stand-still. However, after reconnecting with an old friend Bella must choose between the life she has now, or the endless possibilities of adventure. OOC Edward and Bella
1. Prolouge

I used to wish I was a typewriter.

They're old and when you mess up, you can't fix your mistakes. You don't have to. Typewriters don't have to be anything other than themselves, and they're okay with the fact that they're impractical; they don't try and change for anyone else. 'Course, wishing to be an inanimate object marked the end of my sanity.

That's probably why so many people miss older times. Simpler things, simpler rules, simpler mindsets. If someone created a product that was unsatisfactory, they didn't try and make it better, they just made a whole damn new product.

Hippies were frowned upon but they didn't try and change, they didn't try and be something else when they knew what they stood for.

Unlike most people.

Now-a-days, half the people in this world don't even know what personal standards are. They don't know what personal beliefs and regulations are, but they still think they can please others. They can't even please themselves.

As I stand here in this empty hotel room, I know that I was that person: the one who always looked at others before themselves. Never before would I have smoked a cigarette, or worn patterned skirts and blouses. Never would I have driven a stolen vintage Chevy or watched an elephant change a town's future, but as times change, so does a person.

Looking at the perfectly made bed, and unread note, I come to the conclusion that one person can change too much.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello my beauties. Taking my own life into account, I decided to write this story as sort of journal. What's a life if not ever put into an adventure? After going through my Bella and Carlisle phase, I decided to return to Edward and Bella, because they are the timeless pair. God knows I'm all for timeless. **

**Let me know what you think, I'll try and do my best to keep you lovelies up to date. So far I'm rather enjoying this fiction, and hopefully you will too. **

**Make sure to **_**review, follow, and favorite**_** because as soon as I see those notifications I become ever so excited to give you guys more. **

**Enjoy Lovelies!**

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><p>The large office windows did no justice for the sun with its protective glare. The iridescent glow tinted my paperwork orange and red, and I wondered what it would look like from under the turning trees. Looking out, I desperately wished the autumn leaves weren't the only ones changing.<p>

I needed a change. I wanted a change.

"Ms. Swan, it's ten a.m."

I looked up, startled out of my day dream, and see my secretary peeking through the heavy wooden door of my office. She was an older woman who took pride in the ways she was different. I knew that was a reason I'd hired her. She reminded me of who I used to aspire to be.

"That'd be about right. Thank you, Sue." I dragged my office phone towards myself about to dial my father's number, but loud ringing from underneath my hand interrupted me. Answering it, I heard the familiar gruff voice I've heard every day for the past seven years.

"You didn't call and I got worried." He said. I glanced at the clock reading ten-o-two, and I sighed.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting Dad. I got caught up in my work." I replied.

"Oh… well, do you need me to call you back later?" I heard his hesitant tone, and I knew it'd be hard on him to call me back at an unscheduled time.

"Of course not, I'll always have time for you." But thing was, I didn't. My piles of paperwork towered above my stress level and my meetings were on the verge of overlapping. "What's your day like today Dad?"

As he went on to tell me about his antique auction at precisely twelve-thirty and his therapy session that he "no longer needed" at four, I tried so very hard to pay attention, but my thoughts had long since drifted.

My dad hadn't always been so compulsive. I remembered a time when the only thing compulsive about him was making sure he wasn't late for dinner. He'd park right in his chair at the table while my mother would serve him his fresh lasagna.

It was when she had passed that things started to happen. I noticed he started to call me more often than usual, and his eyes were ever so much more frantic than the last I'd seen them. In the past seven years since my mother's death, my father turned into a passive man with little to speak for. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday he'd call me at exactly ten a.m. to check in, make sure I was okay, and then proceed to talk about his day.

The sad thing was he didn't know he had become any different. To him, the process was so slow that he found himself as normal as ever, but I knew he wasn't.

"How's the shop?" For the second time that morning I was brought back to Earth to answer someone. When my father first went into his depression, it wreaked havoc on his business. He ignored his responsibilities and fell into a heavy grief. As a result, I took the position as co-owner to let him take the time he needed to get better. The issue was he never did.

"The shop's doing just fine Dad, don't you have a single worry. You have enough on your plate, or too little if you ask me. I don't know how you've survived this long without me," I joked. It was well known that my father was a less than stellar cook. It was always my mother doing the cooking in their relationship, but it wasn't for a lack of effort.

"I was actually hoping tomorrow maybe you could visit and make some of that wonderful lemon-garlic tilapia, just like your mom used to. I've been having a real craving for it lately."

"Sure Dad, I can do that," I replied. Talking for another twenty minutes or so, finishing at our normal time of ten-thirty, we signed off and promised to talk that Saturday.

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><p>The rest of the day passed in a stately manner, although my thoughts felt as though they were about to split my head. I had been spending so much time lately focusing on taking care of my dad rather than myself; my work had finally started to catch up with me.<p>

As I was packing up my belongings and paperwork to take home and work on, Sue poked her pepper-haired head through the door to check in. Being the old wise one she was she immediately saw the tenseness in my shoulders and shakiness in my hands. I was going on overload.

"You need a vacation." She spoke, clear as day and bold as ever. I gave her a tightly wound smirk at her impossible theory. With everything I'm up to these days with work and my family, it felt as though I was doing nothing at all. I wasn't sure when my last alcoholic drink was, nor could I remember the last time I was up late for anything besides my job.

"If that were possible I'd be in Europe by now, and I'd never come back."

"Well make sure to take me with you. God knows you'd find yourself a crazy job over there as well and overwork yourself," Sue smiled with her bright eyes and added, "and I wouldn't mind seeing Big Ben either. I need myself a new man." She was quite the man-killer around the office, even at her ripe age of sixty-three. It leaves one to wonder what she was doing with her high-school years.

"I'm not joshing you child, you're muscles look so tightly wound they might snap," She continued.

Sighing, I replied, "With my father I wouldn't be able to step away two counties let alone two countries."

"Well," She hummed, "if the only reason you're still here twenty-four-seven is because a grown man has issues making his own pasta, then maybe you should start evaluating yourself for some attachment issues."

Leaving me blinking and wondering why I hired her, Sue slipped herself out of my office; head high with a certain confidence only she could have.

* * *

><p>As I reached my final destination for that night, I unlocked my front door and tossed my messenger bag onto my island counter top, somewhat taking Sue's advice on a much needed vacation. I slipped off my black business heels while closing the door and proceeded to remove any non-sleeping articles of clothing on the path to my bedroom. Slipping on an old, comfortable nightshirt, I relaxed in my bed catching up on some neglected <em>Doctor Who<em> episodes that have been resting in my DVR for longer than they should.

Looking at the time I debated calling him, seeing as it had been weeks since we had talked, but I chose not to. His schedule was commonly filled with adventures in canyons and marches through African villages. I realized then that I tended to surround myself with people who I one day wished to equate myself with. I guess it fit with the saying that one only becomes smart by surrounding themselves with those that are smarter.

_Tomorrow I will call him. But with the Doctor and Rose, I'm perfectly content._

Edward would have to wait until my vacation was over.

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><p><strong>So this was really just an introductory chapter to let you see the start of everything happening. Without giving you too much spoilers, I want to tell you that I do plan to let this fiction move along quickly in the beginning to get it started. With my short attention span I could never read many slow moving books. <strong>

**Let me know if you have any predictions, requests and/or questions (Which I really, actually **_**love**_** to hear.)**

**I also have some links on my page of things like what the characters look like, as well as their belongings. The number of links shall expand as the story goes on. Please not that while this chapter is rather short, I plan to make them longer in the future. And remember:**

**Make sure to **_**review, follow, and favorite**_** because as soon as I see those notifications I become ever so excited to give you guys more. **

**Thank you Lovelies!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey Beauties and Handsomes, **

**I realize I'm a bit more than late with updating and I apologize. Waiting for a writer to update their story on FanFiction is very annoying. I've found a new musical playlist that I'm hoping will keep me inspired. **

**Let me know what you think, I'll try and do my best to keep you lovelies up to date. Make sure to **_**review, follow and favorite **_**because as soon as I see those notifications I become ever so excited to give you guys more. **

**Enjoy Lovelies!**

* * *

><p>The following afternoon I decided to leave work early to make my father his much wanted specially seasoned fish. It was warmer out for the autumn season and it reminded me of the times I went bird hunting with my dad when I was younger. While I could never shoot a gun, I enjoyed watching him smile as the sound barrier broke and for a split second in deafness, we waited to see if a bird would fall. I used to crave loudness, but now I wish for a second without it.<p>

The breeze on the swift moving New York sidewalks was slightly brisk but not enough to make my hands seek my warm pockets. People swarmed around me and I tried to focus on something other than the idea that I was exactly like them: eager to get to where I needed to go, never admiring a moment.

Arriving at my small apartment on the battered outskirts of the city, I felt home again. It confused people sometimes, how I could make such an income and live in such an area code, but I liked it. It was one of the small things that reminded me of home before the big city. A little dirty and in need of work, it felt familiar.

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><p>With a pinch of salt I placed the fish in the oven at a mild temperature for ten minutes. I never understood why cooking something so simple could be loved so widely. My favorites were always the slow cookers, those with a lot of steps. Cooking was the one thing I spent time on, and the constant new recipes and techniques kept my IQ's interest peaked.<p>

I liked learning, filling my head with new ideas. Ideas gave hopes for the future and those kept me going. As depressing as that thought was I knew that one day I'd wake up with a courage I didn't have the day before and do something crazy. My question was how long I'd have to wait for myself.

A loud shrill caused me to jump, and I realized it was the doorbell. Three knocks followed, and then another three five seconds later. Whoever was at the door was either excited or scared, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

Looking out the peephole I froze for a second then yelled, "You!"

I threw open the door and a broad shouldered man stood with a white smile and a dusty five o'clock shadow. "Me!" he laughed. I attacked him clumsily and nearly pushed him over. His arms' embrace were still warm from the sun's rays in Africa. I felt his body shake from his chuckle and while I felt my cheeks warm, I couldn't bring myself to be embarrassed. It was Edward after all; there was nothing he hadn't witnessed.

"What're you doing here? I haven't even heard from you in weeks." I exclaimed. I held him at arm's length like a mother would a child home from college, inspecting his recent sunglasses tan and freshly browned freckles. He was exactly the same.

"Well then if I'm not invited," He spoke, "I'll just go then. I've got a bus to catch anyway" He started backing away, a rough thumb over his shoulder.

"No, you ass, come in. I'm just making some dinner for my dad," I replied.

He stepped in, releasing his bags and rubbing his hands, looking around the kitchen. "Oh, Bella food. Now I remember why I came back. You know, I've been to many places and never had anything close to your recipes."

I smacked his hands away from the refrigerator door. "Yeah, and I've been all around New York City and never met a pig bigger than you. You should have your own species."

"Oh please Dinner Bells, you know you missed my appetite." I stood for a moment my hands on my hips and just stared at him. He was so familiar and something I so needed right now. I'd become so sentimental and depressed in his absence without realizing it, but snapping back to our old routine so quickly felt natural. I missed this in day to day life.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," The oven beeped and I pulled out the tilapia, telling Edward to make sure it was able to cool off first before he grabbed a piece like a dumb ape.

"You know monkeys aren't dumb. In fact commonly they're smarter than we are. Instinct isn't always a bad thing," He said with a raised eyebrow as if he were an expert on all of life itself. _Such a smart ass._

"Don't get smart on me Edward. I'm the one feeding you, you know. Show a little respect."

"Yes ma'am." He looked like a five year old boy getting a Luke Skywalker action figure when I served him is plate on the bar. He practically had a napkin tucked in his worn collar and silverware in either hand. His mouth full and eyes closed he stated, "But only because this is so good. _God damn_."

"Gross, close your mouth." I grabbed my own plate and sat on the light wooden stool next to him. We ate in a comfortable silence, the only sound being forks against porcelain plates.

It looked juvenile, the way we acted, but the moments that really mattered to me were these, the times where I didn't feel like I had to do anything. It was quite contrasting from my average day to day life. Chemistry wasn't mature for us, that's what made it special. Our friendship was old news, but it always felt new.

"Tell me about Africa," I inquired.

"I thought you'd had enough of my long stories." He replied, a glint in his eye.

"Serious please? Just for one moment."

"Fine, alright. Let's see, Africa," He drew out the last word in a sigh as he decided where to start. I could see his hands twitch and watched as they moved before his mouth to explain. "It's vast," He says, his hands motioning to all the area he could cover in front of him. "The Safaris in East Africa were so different from Botswana or Micato, so natural and undisturbed. The paths were red dust but everything else was so lavishly green and full. The Elephants and lions and others were so chill, relaxed, just part of a yellowish landscape. And the sunsets Bella, the sunsets!" His dramatic, handsome face was now turned towards me along with the rest of his body, his arms moving and expressive. For the brief moment before he started his next sentence I found myself jealous of him, not for the first time. I used to want to do what he does, travel and explore, but where I ended up tying myself I wouldn't be able to find the time.

"I got to see lions and cape buffalos and some of the biggest elephants I've ever seen. I took a tour jeep out and parked it near them, just watching for hours. It was stunning Bella, I wish you could've been there." As he continued, I wished I could've too.

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><p>Time flew by and what seemed like ten minutes later, an hour had passed and I remembered my plans I had made for that night. "Shit, Edward, I have to take this stuff over to my dad's. I told him I'd be there at six. You know how he can get if I'm late."<p>

Edward grimaced, watching me work my way around the kitchen to package the food. "How's he doing?"

"Worse, if that's what you're wondering. Yesterday I was two minutes late calling him and he panicked. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing for him. Nothing works. Therapy, schedules, helping him with damn near everything, I've got nothing." Leaning against the counter with the container in my hand, I looked at him.

"Have you thought about stopping? Letting him do stuff on his own?"

"I have no idea what'd happen. Trust me when I say I've thought about it, but what if he goes off and hurts himself or stops going to therapy or starved himself? There's too many things I wouldn't be able to control."

"Bella, think about it. The man is old enough to live on his own without a babysitter, he's done it before and he can do it again. Let him hit rock bottom, like a drug addict."

The one thing I've always been unsure about with Edward was his ability to say things with a filter. I could never figure out whether I liked it, or it pissed me off. Right then it was the latter.  
>"You know he'd go mad Edward. There's no rock bottom for him, just slipping further and further down until he's gone. If what I'm doing now keeps that from happening, then up until the day he dies, I'll do it."<p>

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm down. _Edward was just trying to help, don't get pissy._I just wished I could be angry for once without stopping myself. I was tired of suppressing things. But it wasn't worth fighting with Edward because I knew that a half hour later, everything would be back to normal.

"Sorry," I sighed. "The guest room is there, as always but I wasn't expecting you so there's no blankets or sheets on the bed. I gotta run but you know where they are right? In the hall closet next to the bathroom?" I paused to grab my keys and purse from the other side of the kitchen then looked at his innocent looks and smiled, "I'll be back around eight thirty. Maybe tonight I'll catch you up on all the new _Doctor Who_ episodes? There's a twelfth doctor now, you'll like him. He's a psycho, like you. Totally crazy." I stood with my head tilted, smiling at him, my free hand hanging down.

"Sounds great then," He smiled, his eyes bright and his hair copper and floppy.

As I walked out and closed the door, I smirked and yelled, "See ya Eddy!"

Through the dense wood I heard him yell a well pronounced "fuck you" at the nickname. I laughed and continued down the apartment building stairwell.

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><p>My visit to my father's went fast as I sat excitedly to get back to Edward, but I couldn't help but notice how whenever he placed a new antique he'd gotten from the auction down, it was precisely strait and centered, how everything was dusted and the blankets were folded on the couch.<p>

I couldn't help but sadly smile as I remembered the sloppy, football watching dad I grew up with. If I stopped helping him I would have no idea where he would end up. Losing one parent was hard enough.

**Let me know what you think, I'll try and do my best to keep you lovelies up to date. Make sure to **_**review, follow and favorite **_**because as soon as I see those notifications I become ever so excited to give you guys more.**

**Enjoy Lovelies!**


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